


Maybe I Will

by Oboeist3



Category: Welcome to Hell, w2h
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2621060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/Oboeist3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After almost a year of being pestered by an upbeat, skirt wearing demon from Hell, on a particularly bad day in the middle of February, Jonathan Combs finally snapped.</p>
<p>"Fine! I’ll kill myself alright! Just shut up!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I Will

After almost a year of being pestered by an upbeat, skirt wearing demon from Hell, on a particularly bad day in the middle of February, Jonathan Combs finally snapped.

"Fine! I’ll kill myself alright! Just shut up!" he snapped at Sock, who had previously been hovering above his head and attempting to distract him from his Stats homework with wide, sharp toothed faces and a barrage of banter not even his headphones could drown out.

"Really?" he asked, a grin spreading over his face. "You really mean it?" His excitement was almost sickening, like that of a child on Halloween, all pent up energy and eagerness. For a moment, it was easy to forget why that was.

"Yea." he said, and he wasn’t quite sure if he was lying or not.

"This is great! Mephistopheles is going to be so happy. Maybe I’ll even get a raise! I mean sure I’m not paid anything right now, but I also exist on a different plane of reality and don’t need to eat and sleep and stuff. What do you think the currency of Hell is? Soul dollars? Maybe they have little ghosts or demons or something like we have presidents and whatever England has on theirs. The Queen? I don’t know." he babbled as he floated down to just above the floor.

"It’s Queen Elizabeth." he said after a moment.

"Hah, I was right! Hey, you can’t say I suck at my job now either!"

"Well you actually haven’t gotten me to kill myself yet, so…" He shrugged, wondering when it had become so easy to talk about his hypothetical suicide. Consequences of living with a demon, he guessed.

"Oh yea, that reminds me! How are you going to do it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "Poison? Hanging? Shotgun? Your dad’s got a revolver in his study, doesn’t he? Wouldn’t recommend stabbing though. Takes forever to bleed out, even if you remove the knife. Hurts the whole time too. If you are, aim for the heart or a lung or something. You’ll be out like a light if you do that. Or so the Hellside demons tell me."

"Wait, hold up. You killed yourself?" he said disbelievingly, looking down at him. Sock seemed like the last guy in the world to do that. Murder yes, but not suicide. For a dead guy, he was about the most lively person Jonathan knew.

"Well yea. Had to die to go to Hell you know. Where did you think I got the cool spooky hole?" he said, lifting up his shirt to reveal the ever dripping, green lined hole in question. It seemed a lot less cool now that he knew what it was.

"W-Why’d you do it?" he said, and his voice certainly didn’t tremor when he said it. Just as he really wasn’t feeling somewhat sick just looking at him. For all his seeming apathy at Sock’s suggestions, he’d thought about killing himself before. There was a reason the Devil had a file with his name, and it wasn’t for lying in Church.

"Sleep murdered my parents. Don’t really know why, but I guess it doesn’t matter. Buried them up on the hill in the old cemetery. Made one for me too. Again, don’t really know why, but it felt right enough. Stabbed myself, made a deal with the Devil, badabang, badaboom, and here I am." he said, but it wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as he previously had been. Jonathan guessed no one could be, talking about their own death.

A lump had formed in his throat as he talked, because he knew about those graves, up on the hill. It was something of a town mystery. Mom, Dad, and Me. Just reading them gave most people chills. No one had ever associated it with a poor family gone missing downtown. Then again, no one really bothered.

"I guess I won’t stab myself then." he said lamely, slipping back on his headphones and pretending to go back to his work, much to Sock’s apparent chagrin. But a few clicks on the volume button of his phone and probable ear damage blocked him out. However, no amount of Valhalla Soundbox could make him focus on his Stats again, not with those words in his head.

He knew Sock was messed up, but he attributed a lot of it to the being a demon thing. He hadn’t even thought about what Sock was like before he started haunting him. What was his life like? Did he have friends? Was he close with his parents? Obviously he had to care enough to bury them. Was there someone out there morning him, unaware of him hovering in some depressed teenager’s bedroom, desperately trying and mostly failing to get him to kill himself?

"Hey Sock?" he said, sliding off one of his headphones, but when he turned to look at him, the demon was gone. Frantically he started searching the room, looking in all the usual places, under the bed, in that hole in the wall, stretched across the ceiling. Nothing. He was starting to feel panicked, Socks never just left, in fact it was all he could do to get him to leave sometimes.

"Sock!" he yelled, even though his mom was probably home from work by now. "Sock where are you?" He ran downstairs and opened the fridge, peeked in the living room, even checked behind the shower curtains. Still his search was fruitless. Eventually he sank down to the floor in the cellar, running a hand through his bleached blonde hair, holding back tears.

Was that it? Was Sock gone now, didn’t need to be here now that he thought Jonathan was going to kill himself? He didn’t want him to go, he didn’t want to lose the only real friend he had. Because that was what he was, he realized. In a cruel twist of fate, the person trying to kill him was the main reason he wanted to stay alive.

"God, I’m such an idiot. I never should have said that." he said, and he wasn’t able to keep himself from crying now, wallowing in an equal mix of self pity and hate. He didn’t know how long it was until he heard a familiar voice ringing in his ears.

"Hey, whatcha’ doin’ down here?"

He looked up, and sure enough, floating just above the ground was Sock, munching on a bag of potato chips and a cola can floating next to his left arm.

"Sock?" he said, wiping off some snot on his grey hoodie sleeve. (It had been that kind of crying.)

"Know any other demons with as great a fashion sense as mine?" he asked, angling himself to one side as if to show off the purple miniskirt he always wore.

"No, not really." he said.

"Mmky. You still haven’t answered my first question though."

"In all honesty…looking for you."

"No way!"

"Way."

"I just popped down to Hell to see if us demons are allowed to eat. Apparently Lays makes their chips there. Who knew? And Keith has a secret stash of cola in his office. Threatened to tell Mephi about it if he didn’t give me one." he said before taking a sip. Jonathan sort of felt bad for this Keith, even if he was a demon. Sock was persistent in everything he did.

"You know, I’ve been thinking." said the demon after he’d finished up his soda and Jonathan was mostly back to normal, save a bit of red around his eyes and a drippy nose.

"Should I be worried?"

"Shh! No talking, I’ve got this all planned out." he hissed.

"Ok?" he said, stretching out the o sound.

"You don’t have to kill yourself if you don’t want to."

"What?!"

"Well you’re a pretty cool dude and all, even with the suicidal tendencies I’m trying to encourage. I like haunting you, and I don’t know what the next guy’ll even be like. I don’t really have a deadline, you know, so as long as you do it eventually, then I won’t get fired! Cool?" he said, holding out a hand to the teen, seeming as sincere as one could hope a demon to be. Jonathan smiled a rare smile.

"Cool." he said, even as his hand passed uselessly through Sock’s. He pushed himself up and started walking upstairs, his mind once again turning to the beat of life, the Stats homework he had yet to complete, the drudgery of the life he had before him, and his shoulders felt heavy. But it eased a little when he looked back and saw Sock floating after him, grinning widely.


End file.
